Just over 4 years ago I remarried. My husband is a wonderful and supportive man. He's been a support of the Ordain Women movement. He has always shown kindness and respect for people regardless of race, religion, nationality, ability, and/or gender. To have him as a step parent to my children, especially my two youngest has been a blessing.
Dan was raised with divorced parents so he gets the whole step parent gig from the viewpoint of the child. He has always known how to react to the snotty comments and rolled with the punches. Plus he has never tried to usurp their father's roll. Because of various reasons that I'll get into in another post, he is less than thrilled with my ex, but he still treats him respectfully when it matters.
Why do I tell you all of this with the title being "Temple Divorce"? Well it's to give you a little bit of a picture of the man I once planned to marry in the temple. That's right...planned. It is no longer the plan. "Why?" you may ask. I firmly believe it's because of the unfairness that is inherent with the whole system of canceling a sealing.
In 1996 I was sealed to my ex-husband and our two oldest were sealed to us. Having done this, my two youngest are born in the covenant or BIC. At one time this was a huge deal for me. Then a good friend lost her child in an accident. This friend is not sealed to her children. It made me question the whole being together in the next life thing that the LDS Church expounds upon. That we can only be a family if we all adhere strictly to the rules that the church has laid out for us. But if we don't then we are going to be split up between degrees of glory. I can't see a loving God tearing apart families because we are imperfect. And I couldn't fathom that my friend wouldn't be able to be reunited in the hereafter with her child. I just does not compute.
Even as I was questioning this I still had the desire to be sealed to Dan. I met with my bishop and asked what steps needed to be taken to have my previous sealing cancelled. I had to fill out a form and write a letter to the First Presidency. Then I was to give those to the bishop and he would add his own thoughts if necessary and pass it on to the Stake President. Once the Stake President received it, he would review it and call me in to discuss the request before sending it off to the First Presidency for a final decision. He would also request a letter of permission from my ex-husband for me to be sealed to another man.
So I diligently filled out the paperwork and struggled through a letter. I turned over the whole shebang to my Bishop and waited. Nothing happened. I waited a few weeks and heard nothing. So I went back to my bishop and he had lost the paperwork. So I filled it out again and wrote yet another letter. I turned it all in and waited. Then our bishop was released and a new bishop put into place. A few months had gone by and I still had heard nothing. So I made an appointment with the bishop and found out he knew nothing about it (which didn't really surprise me). But he said he would ask the Stake President about it on my behalf. The news I received back had me fuming...the paperwork was never received.
At this point we had been married 2 1/2 years. So we decided we'd try for our 3rd anniversary to be sealed. Once again I filled out the paperwork. And I wrote yet another letter. Each letter was difficult, but this one more-so because communication between my ex and myself had completely disappeared. So I had no clue if he would respond favorably or not. I was rather frustrated with the whole process at this point. After I gave the bishop the paperwork he met with me and let me know he had forwarded to the Stake President. He recommended my husband and I attend the temple weekly and perform sealings. So we started to do so. At this point we were about 2 months away from our 3rd anniversary. The day grew closer and closer. Then it came and went. No word from the Stake President. I was so angry. How could this keep getting blown off?
I finally asked the bishop if he was certain the paperwork was given to the stake president. He stated that he delivered it himself to the Stake Executive Secretary. Now this is a man I do not know. The bishop provided me with his number and I went home and called him. I stated that I was waiting for an appointment with the Stake President because I was requesting to have my first sealing cancelled. He said he'd check with the Stake President and get back to me. Not too many weeks later it was Stake Conference. Finally the perfect chance to talk to the Stake President about canceling my sealing. Speaking with him was an exercise in futility. He told me to get the paperwork from my bishop, fill it out, write a letter, give it back to my bishop, and then my bishop would forward it on to him. I told him all that had already happened. He looked at me and stated he had received no such paperwork and to go back to my bishop.
At this point we were waist deep in wedding preparations for my oldest daughter. I didn't have the energy to deal with this sealing Something that should have been a slam dunk (he's a registered sex offender) had turned into a comedy of errors. And I was fed up with it. I looked at my husband and told him that I had the feeling God was out to destroy us. There were a lot of tears. It was at this point that I first looked at the website for Community of Christ.
I knew there had to be a better way. Why is my willingness to be with Dan for time and eternity being put into jeopardy by a bunch of men? Why must I have to get all of this permission just to be "properly married" according to LDS Standards? I was so unfair. Yet if my ex wants to marry another woman in the temple he doesn't require permission from me. He can marry a hundred women in the temple and it's all good.
I told my husband that I was not going to fill out the paperwork again. He seemed rather hurt. I told him I was committed to him for eternity and there was no was God was honestly going to deny me forever with him. Warmth filled my whole being and I knew that God approved. So if he approved what did I need some man created ordinance for?
People still ask when we are going to be sealed. I tell them we aren't because we don't believe it is necessary. God won't tear us apart because we have covenanted to each other to be together for all eternity. And because God is good I have faith it will happen.
For those of you trying to obtain a temple divorce, you have my prayers. For some I know it is a desire and a hope. I want you to find your happiness. My own child is embarking on her own journey to go to the temple and I'm thrilled for her. She understands I won't be there inside the temple, but if I can get to where she goes through then I'll be excitedly waiting outside for her.
As for me...well I know that when I resign my membership it will cancel my sealing. I still feel that my children are mine for an eternity and have no regrets. It's my own witness from God that tells me this although I know many who will disagree.
If the men who were involved in this failure to submit paperwork and follow through properly read this blog, please know I understand you are human. I feel that this was part of a greater plan. I am happy with my choice.
If someone higher up in the LDS Church reads this, It's time to change the way you approach this. It's time to take so many people out of the process and streamline it. The more people who handle it the more likely it is for someone to lose something. Let those who desire a temple divorce write directly to the First Presidency. Make it fair for both men and women. Either let women marry a new husband in the temple without a temple divorce or force men to obtain a temple divorce before marrying a new wife. It's time to level the playing field.
Friday, September 18, 2015
Monday, September 14, 2015
Challenging the Priesthood Authority
January 3, 1997 my third child came into my life. So beautiful and delicate. And determined to do everything her own way as she was the only one of my children to be born late. Now they say when you increase your family from 1 child to 2 children it is the most difficult transition. I forcefully disagree. Adding child number 3 is the hardest. Not only are you now out numbered as parents, but even just doing things alone with 2 kids was easier than 3 (at least at first). She was also the only one that I didn't have anyone around to help with the transition as even my husband had to return to work when she was 3 days old. Know this it will come to no surprise that I became depressed.
The one joy I did have was the bi-monthly YW Presidency Meetings I attended. Spending time with these amazing women as we worked together to schedule lessons and activities was precious. Plus it gave me time in adult-land. Yes, I left the kids home for dad to "babysit" (FYI for the men out there...if you call caring for your own children babysitting I suggest you reassess your feelings towards them and your spouse). By mid-March my husband had had enough.
After a meeting one Sunday afternoon I was met at home by an angry husband who proclaimed that my calling at church was interfering with my ability to be a mom. He demanded that I ask the bishop to be released. Oh how we fought about this. I finally agreed just to keep the peace.
The next Sunday I met with the bishop during Sunday School. Here is where the twist occurs. During the previous few months a new bishop had been called. In fact, he is a repeat bishop having served as bishop many years before. I had a lot of respect for him and did not want to meet with him, yet I did. I explained that I needed to be released. He asked why and I explained how my husband felt. I was asked to give him a week to take it under consideration. Sacrament Meeting was not very pleasant and at home I faced a furious husband who accused me of lying when I said I'd asked to be released.
After a tense week Sunday finally rolled around. My husband met with the bishop during Sunday School. When he came out of the bishop's office I knew he was angry. I was also grateful that looks could not kill. He told me the bishop wanted to speak with me. I walked into the bishop's office and sat down Here I was told that I was not being released. He reminded me that the previous week I had spoke about how I felt at peach because I was working with kids. Then he told me to let him know if my husband had any further issues with my calling. And to top it all of, he dismissed the speakers for Sacrament Meeting. He spoke eloquently about how a husband is required to support his wife in her calling and if anyone felt they could not do that to come see him and he will have something for them.
If I thought the previous week was rough, this week was nearly impossible. I was accused of all manner of attitude and subterfuge with the bishop. That I was making up the truth of what happened. The next Sunday was Easter Sunday. We attended services and nothing was left in the bank. Then we went to my family 's Easter Party. I helped pass out goodies to be found. My husband complained to one of my brothers-in-law about how unfairly our bishop treated him. And that went over like a lead balloon. He had zero supporters in the room.
At home that evening he complained that I made him look week in front of our bishop and my family. I tried to tell him that his actions show how week he is, but I refrained. I told him we just need to redefine our expectations. Naturally this never happened. He stated he was hurt that I attempted to usurp his authority in our family. Is it any wonder we divorced a few years latter.
This was my first real time at confronting the social norms of Priesthood Authority, but it certainly hasn't been my last.
The one joy I did have was the bi-monthly YW Presidency Meetings I attended. Spending time with these amazing women as we worked together to schedule lessons and activities was precious. Plus it gave me time in adult-land. Yes, I left the kids home for dad to "babysit" (FYI for the men out there...if you call caring for your own children babysitting I suggest you reassess your feelings towards them and your spouse). By mid-March my husband had had enough.
After a meeting one Sunday afternoon I was met at home by an angry husband who proclaimed that my calling at church was interfering with my ability to be a mom. He demanded that I ask the bishop to be released. Oh how we fought about this. I finally agreed just to keep the peace.
The next Sunday I met with the bishop during Sunday School. Here is where the twist occurs. During the previous few months a new bishop had been called. In fact, he is a repeat bishop having served as bishop many years before. I had a lot of respect for him and did not want to meet with him, yet I did. I explained that I needed to be released. He asked why and I explained how my husband felt. I was asked to give him a week to take it under consideration. Sacrament Meeting was not very pleasant and at home I faced a furious husband who accused me of lying when I said I'd asked to be released.
After a tense week Sunday finally rolled around. My husband met with the bishop during Sunday School. When he came out of the bishop's office I knew he was angry. I was also grateful that looks could not kill. He told me the bishop wanted to speak with me. I walked into the bishop's office and sat down Here I was told that I was not being released. He reminded me that the previous week I had spoke about how I felt at peach because I was working with kids. Then he told me to let him know if my husband had any further issues with my calling. And to top it all of, he dismissed the speakers for Sacrament Meeting. He spoke eloquently about how a husband is required to support his wife in her calling and if anyone felt they could not do that to come see him and he will have something for them.
If I thought the previous week was rough, this week was nearly impossible. I was accused of all manner of attitude and subterfuge with the bishop. That I was making up the truth of what happened. The next Sunday was Easter Sunday. We attended services and nothing was left in the bank. Then we went to my family 's Easter Party. I helped pass out goodies to be found. My husband complained to one of my brothers-in-law about how unfairly our bishop treated him. And that went over like a lead balloon. He had zero supporters in the room.
At home that evening he complained that I made him look week in front of our bishop and my family. I tried to tell him that his actions show how week he is, but I refrained. I told him we just need to redefine our expectations. Naturally this never happened. He stated he was hurt that I attempted to usurp his authority in our family. Is it any wonder we divorced a few years latter.
This was my first real time at confronting the social norms of Priesthood Authority, but it certainly hasn't been my last.
Saturday, September 12, 2015
Temple Covenants, Church Callings, and Pregnancy Problems
Right about the time we moved into our home my parents separated. This was hard as they had been married 38 years. I'm sure it was harder on my older siblings, but still it was hard. Being the youngest I wondered often if they had stayed together because of me. I know now that this is not the case. Sometimes divorce happens. I tell you this because the final catalyst in me finally agreeing to prepare to go through the LDS Temple, take out my endowments, and be sealed to my husband and our children wasn't his family and their constant pushing, but my parents marriage coming to an end. No I don't blame them, it was just how things panned out. I wanted to prove, in some warped way, that my marriage was strong than it appeared. So we started attending church and paying our tithing.
I believe I mentioned in my previous post, Beware the Mother-in-law, that we were now living in the ward of my husband's other grandma. Unlike his sweet little Danish grandma who was just happy to see us on Sunday whether at church or at her home, this grandma came to our home after church wanting to know why we weren't at church if we happened to miss a day. Nothing like your own Mormanity Monitor. This bugged me and I admit I went to church at first just to keep her off my back. Then we received callings. He was called to be a counselor in the Young Men's Presidency and as Assistant Scout Master (this would later lead to Scout Master). I was called as the Primary President. I will say this about callings, if you have new members in your ward do not place them in callings where they are not able to interact with the bulk of the ward. Being in our own little corner for Primary felt like we were a world away from everyone. I had no clue how to interact with the other adults since I was in Primary. But I did learn a lot about the parents and what went on at home. Anyways, for some reason I decided the best way to deal with the nosy grandma was to make her my secretary in Primary. Well the bishop decided that she needed to be a counselor instead. Not quite what I had in mind, but oh well. She lasted about 3 months and asked to be released.
Now during this time we were paying our tithing diligently and struggling to make ends meet. When the new year started I decided I would become a Tupperware Lady. I did a decent job of it. Once people realized I was willing to travel out of my area for parties I had other saleswomen offering me party requests for 2-3 hours away. I was meeting lots of people and having a blast. I started making a fair amount of money too. I made enough that my husband could quit his second job completely. Then came the month I netted nearly the same dollar amount as he made. Let's just say all was not well in our home. It was then that he started to complain about how much time I spent away from home (2 nights a week and part of Saturday). I was enjoying myself and had signed up a couple of new recruits. This is when it all went downhill.
Over the course of "wifely duty" I found I was expecting my third child. I hate to say it, but I was not happy. I had horrible morning sickness that lasted all day long. It was a struggle to fix something as basic as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was angry. Evidently he announced in priesthood one Sunday that we were expecting. So here I had people I still barely knew congratulating me. About this time the bishop decided to congratulate me and was informed that this baby was neither planned or something I was happy about. He told me that the way to prevent it was to abstain, but that it violated spousal duties to do so. I was livid and informed him quite loudly and right outside the Relief Society room that I was not discussing my sex life with a man who obviously doesn't know how to keep it in his pants.
A few days later my feelings about my pregnancy changed rapidly. I started cramping and spotting. We went to the ER and I was put on bed rest for 2 weeks. We were told that it didn't look like I'd lose the baby but I needed to take it easy. At this point the definition of bed rest for my husband was to not do anything too difficult like mow the lawn, but taking care of the kids was ok. Oh, and I needed to quit my Tupperware business immediately. I told him I'd schedule book parties through the pregnancy but I refused to give it up completely.
Once I was off bed rest it was back to church. That first Sunday back I was summoned to the bishop's office. I walked in to find my husband already there. Seems my husband was being promoted to Scout Master and they had decided that the time it took for me to do my duties as Primary President took too much away from the family, so I was going to be released soon. I asked why I had even been invited to participate in this pow-wow if they had already decided everything without me. The bishop looked at me and said it was actually because my husband was concerned that I had become uninterested with maintaining the family home and my other wifely duties. WTF!!!! I had just gotten off bed rest during which I still prepared meals, washed dishes, took care of laundry, and cleaned the house. I had asked him to vacuum and help occasionally with dished on the weekend. I was in no condition to be doing everything I was, but I was found lacking. I informed the bishop to release me that same day as I would not continue in the calling after Primary ended that day. I walked back and told my counselors and secretary that I was being released that day but didn't explain anything else.
It was about this time my dad had a cardiovascular event. Not quite a heart attack but an issue severe enough 911 was called and within 48 hours he was in surgery for a quadruple bypass. This happened on Father's Day 1996. I remember it well because I was upset he had recently gotten engaged and because of how I felt I did not visit him nor call him for Father's Day. Not one of my better moments. My soon-to-be step-mom stayed by my dad's side through it all. And I apologized for my actions.
It was at the end of June that I was called as the YW secretary. This was a calling I thoroughly enjoyed. I loved hanging out with the teenage girls. They were a delight to be around. Because we were both in callings with the Youth it meant our activity nights always seemed to lead to an argument over which of us would keep the kids. Grandma didn't want to help so we had to take the girls every week. We often split the girls with me taking the oldest and him taking the next oldest.
For some reason he planned scout camp right around July 24th. He would have to take our only vehicle which meant I would not be spending the holiday with any of my family. I'd be at home with the kids. Thankfully our ward decided to throw a BBQ for all those who had no where to go. And as luck would have it, the husband came home early to surprise me and planned to go up the next day for a few hours to help them pack up and come home. I was glad because I really didn't feel well. By the next evening it was obvious I was sick. One of the men in the ward stopped by to see my husband, who still wasn't home, and saw how sick I looked. He asked me to let him take the girls down to his house where his wife and youngest daughter. I really didn't care what he did, I just wanted to sleep. So he figured out what was needed on his own and walked with my kids down the street to his house. He then went in search of my husband. When he found him he informed him that I needed to to to the ER right away. My husband apparently told him he'd head home once he was done. This amazing man "helped" my husband come home and take me to the ER. I spent 5 days in the hospital with pyelonephritis (fancy term for a kidney infection). The only upside to all this was the uninterrupted hours of watching the Olympics. The downside, well a big one that came out many years later, is that this is when Lupus was triggered.
After a few days in the hospital, I came home to a house that looked like WWIII had happened and we lost. It was a disaster. So bad that my sister came to clean and I was totally ashamed. I asked her a while back to quite bringing this up because I had no control over the situation at the time. After my house was clean I got to where I would drive to one of my sisters homes for the day. Or I would spend a few hours at a friends house. This is all in the attempt to keep my house cleaner. I figured if I wasn't at home then my house wouldn't get dirty.
Needless to say I was quite depressed but unwilling to tell anyone. Then one day at a friend's house I noticed I was spotting again. This scared me. I had a doctor's appointment the next day so I just waited. I told my midwife and she ordered me to a modified bed rest (modified because I told her there was no way my husband would accept me being on full bedrest). I had to lie down for at least 4 hours every day...preferably in the afternoon and no going anywhere without another adult with me. I did not mention that we were about to go through the temple, but in retrospect I should have.
The day came that we were going to take out our endowments and be sealed. It started off with our water heater breaking and us all bathing in cold water. Our escorts were late by 45 min. And there aren't "brides dresses" for pregnant women. It was a very long day. The initiatory was odd and very offensive. The endowment was not spiritual at all for me. I just wanted to get it over with as this was just some bizarre ritualistic stuff that did not seem to be in line with anything of God. Then came the sealing ceremony. We had to wait nearly an hour because the Mother-in-law went to the wrong temple. And evidently the temple workers did not appreciate me saying we could do it without her there. Again it felt very ritualistic and odd, but I did feel more at peace with it. Then our kids were brought in to be seal to us and the oldest decided that right that moment was the perfect time to throw a temper tantrum. I wanted to cry...and think I may have. The sealer was quick and performed the ordinance. What I couldn't get out of my head was the fact that everything I covenanted to was first to my husband and then to God...yet he didn't have to covenant to me and then God.
Everyone told me you gain more understanding the more you attend the temple. I'm not sure what understanding was to be gained, but I did get to where I knew the right words to say at the right time. And there was definitely a certain peace to be away from the outside world. But that day I left the temple feeling like I'd just sold my soul to the devil. Not a good thing. And there was no one I could tell how I felt. When I tried to say something I was told that it would change if I attended frequently. Needless to say I've never been a frequent temple attendee.
Now there are a lot of things that go on inside the temple. I made a promise to God I would not discuss them openly and I chose to keep that promise. There are lots of questions and suppositions about what happens in the temple. While I may have chosen to remove my garments (a prayerful decision made with God) I still am willing to uphold the promise to keep the nitty gritty details to myself unless speaking with one who has also had this experience. Not once have I ever felt blessed for having a temple marriage. I've never felt more confined and controlled by others. I fully understand that many feel blessed and had beautiful experiences within the temple, but it all just seemed a little too odd for my taste.
We made it to the temple one more time before our 3rd daughter came along. The evening at the temple was followed by preterm labor and a few more months of bed rest. This time with the admonition from the doctors to my husband that zero spousal duties were to be entertained by me. If he wanted a healthy wife and healthy child he'd have to make sure I stayed in bed and let this little one stay put. With help from family and our ward the little angel made her appearance 2 days past her due date.
I believe I mentioned in my previous post, Beware the Mother-in-law, that we were now living in the ward of my husband's other grandma. Unlike his sweet little Danish grandma who was just happy to see us on Sunday whether at church or at her home, this grandma came to our home after church wanting to know why we weren't at church if we happened to miss a day. Nothing like your own Mormanity Monitor. This bugged me and I admit I went to church at first just to keep her off my back. Then we received callings. He was called to be a counselor in the Young Men's Presidency and as Assistant Scout Master (this would later lead to Scout Master). I was called as the Primary President. I will say this about callings, if you have new members in your ward do not place them in callings where they are not able to interact with the bulk of the ward. Being in our own little corner for Primary felt like we were a world away from everyone. I had no clue how to interact with the other adults since I was in Primary. But I did learn a lot about the parents and what went on at home. Anyways, for some reason I decided the best way to deal with the nosy grandma was to make her my secretary in Primary. Well the bishop decided that she needed to be a counselor instead. Not quite what I had in mind, but oh well. She lasted about 3 months and asked to be released.
Now during this time we were paying our tithing diligently and struggling to make ends meet. When the new year started I decided I would become a Tupperware Lady. I did a decent job of it. Once people realized I was willing to travel out of my area for parties I had other saleswomen offering me party requests for 2-3 hours away. I was meeting lots of people and having a blast. I started making a fair amount of money too. I made enough that my husband could quit his second job completely. Then came the month I netted nearly the same dollar amount as he made. Let's just say all was not well in our home. It was then that he started to complain about how much time I spent away from home (2 nights a week and part of Saturday). I was enjoying myself and had signed up a couple of new recruits. This is when it all went downhill.
Over the course of "wifely duty" I found I was expecting my third child. I hate to say it, but I was not happy. I had horrible morning sickness that lasted all day long. It was a struggle to fix something as basic as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was angry. Evidently he announced in priesthood one Sunday that we were expecting. So here I had people I still barely knew congratulating me. About this time the bishop decided to congratulate me and was informed that this baby was neither planned or something I was happy about. He told me that the way to prevent it was to abstain, but that it violated spousal duties to do so. I was livid and informed him quite loudly and right outside the Relief Society room that I was not discussing my sex life with a man who obviously doesn't know how to keep it in his pants.
A few days later my feelings about my pregnancy changed rapidly. I started cramping and spotting. We went to the ER and I was put on bed rest for 2 weeks. We were told that it didn't look like I'd lose the baby but I needed to take it easy. At this point the definition of bed rest for my husband was to not do anything too difficult like mow the lawn, but taking care of the kids was ok. Oh, and I needed to quit my Tupperware business immediately. I told him I'd schedule book parties through the pregnancy but I refused to give it up completely.
Once I was off bed rest it was back to church. That first Sunday back I was summoned to the bishop's office. I walked in to find my husband already there. Seems my husband was being promoted to Scout Master and they had decided that the time it took for me to do my duties as Primary President took too much away from the family, so I was going to be released soon. I asked why I had even been invited to participate in this pow-wow if they had already decided everything without me. The bishop looked at me and said it was actually because my husband was concerned that I had become uninterested with maintaining the family home and my other wifely duties. WTF!!!! I had just gotten off bed rest during which I still prepared meals, washed dishes, took care of laundry, and cleaned the house. I had asked him to vacuum and help occasionally with dished on the weekend. I was in no condition to be doing everything I was, but I was found lacking. I informed the bishop to release me that same day as I would not continue in the calling after Primary ended that day. I walked back and told my counselors and secretary that I was being released that day but didn't explain anything else.
It was about this time my dad had a cardiovascular event. Not quite a heart attack but an issue severe enough 911 was called and within 48 hours he was in surgery for a quadruple bypass. This happened on Father's Day 1996. I remember it well because I was upset he had recently gotten engaged and because of how I felt I did not visit him nor call him for Father's Day. Not one of my better moments. My soon-to-be step-mom stayed by my dad's side through it all. And I apologized for my actions.
It was at the end of June that I was called as the YW secretary. This was a calling I thoroughly enjoyed. I loved hanging out with the teenage girls. They were a delight to be around. Because we were both in callings with the Youth it meant our activity nights always seemed to lead to an argument over which of us would keep the kids. Grandma didn't want to help so we had to take the girls every week. We often split the girls with me taking the oldest and him taking the next oldest.
For some reason he planned scout camp right around July 24th. He would have to take our only vehicle which meant I would not be spending the holiday with any of my family. I'd be at home with the kids. Thankfully our ward decided to throw a BBQ for all those who had no where to go. And as luck would have it, the husband came home early to surprise me and planned to go up the next day for a few hours to help them pack up and come home. I was glad because I really didn't feel well. By the next evening it was obvious I was sick. One of the men in the ward stopped by to see my husband, who still wasn't home, and saw how sick I looked. He asked me to let him take the girls down to his house where his wife and youngest daughter. I really didn't care what he did, I just wanted to sleep. So he figured out what was needed on his own and walked with my kids down the street to his house. He then went in search of my husband. When he found him he informed him that I needed to to to the ER right away. My husband apparently told him he'd head home once he was done. This amazing man "helped" my husband come home and take me to the ER. I spent 5 days in the hospital with pyelonephritis (fancy term for a kidney infection). The only upside to all this was the uninterrupted hours of watching the Olympics. The downside, well a big one that came out many years later, is that this is when Lupus was triggered.
After a few days in the hospital, I came home to a house that looked like WWIII had happened and we lost. It was a disaster. So bad that my sister came to clean and I was totally ashamed. I asked her a while back to quite bringing this up because I had no control over the situation at the time. After my house was clean I got to where I would drive to one of my sisters homes for the day. Or I would spend a few hours at a friends house. This is all in the attempt to keep my house cleaner. I figured if I wasn't at home then my house wouldn't get dirty.
Needless to say I was quite depressed but unwilling to tell anyone. Then one day at a friend's house I noticed I was spotting again. This scared me. I had a doctor's appointment the next day so I just waited. I told my midwife and she ordered me to a modified bed rest (modified because I told her there was no way my husband would accept me being on full bedrest). I had to lie down for at least 4 hours every day...preferably in the afternoon and no going anywhere without another adult with me. I did not mention that we were about to go through the temple, but in retrospect I should have.
The day came that we were going to take out our endowments and be sealed. It started off with our water heater breaking and us all bathing in cold water. Our escorts were late by 45 min. And there aren't "brides dresses" for pregnant women. It was a very long day. The initiatory was odd and very offensive. The endowment was not spiritual at all for me. I just wanted to get it over with as this was just some bizarre ritualistic stuff that did not seem to be in line with anything of God. Then came the sealing ceremony. We had to wait nearly an hour because the Mother-in-law went to the wrong temple. And evidently the temple workers did not appreciate me saying we could do it without her there. Again it felt very ritualistic and odd, but I did feel more at peace with it. Then our kids were brought in to be seal to us and the oldest decided that right that moment was the perfect time to throw a temper tantrum. I wanted to cry...and think I may have. The sealer was quick and performed the ordinance. What I couldn't get out of my head was the fact that everything I covenanted to was first to my husband and then to God...yet he didn't have to covenant to me and then God.
Everyone told me you gain more understanding the more you attend the temple. I'm not sure what understanding was to be gained, but I did get to where I knew the right words to say at the right time. And there was definitely a certain peace to be away from the outside world. But that day I left the temple feeling like I'd just sold my soul to the devil. Not a good thing. And there was no one I could tell how I felt. When I tried to say something I was told that it would change if I attended frequently. Needless to say I've never been a frequent temple attendee.
Now there are a lot of things that go on inside the temple. I made a promise to God I would not discuss them openly and I chose to keep that promise. There are lots of questions and suppositions about what happens in the temple. While I may have chosen to remove my garments (a prayerful decision made with God) I still am willing to uphold the promise to keep the nitty gritty details to myself unless speaking with one who has also had this experience. Not once have I ever felt blessed for having a temple marriage. I've never felt more confined and controlled by others. I fully understand that many feel blessed and had beautiful experiences within the temple, but it all just seemed a little too odd for my taste.
We made it to the temple one more time before our 3rd daughter came along. The evening at the temple was followed by preterm labor and a few more months of bed rest. This time with the admonition from the doctors to my husband that zero spousal duties were to be entertained by me. If he wanted a healthy wife and healthy child he'd have to make sure I stayed in bed and let this little one stay put. With help from family and our ward the little angel made her appearance 2 days past her due date.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Beware the Mother-in-law
By then end of the 7th month of my marriage we had moved to a new apartment and quit attending church. It was the first experience my husband had ever had of people not being welcoming to members. During Sacrament Meeting the bishop had stated that after church new members could take the time to introduce themselves to the Relief Society President and Elders Quorum President. He stated there would be an information sheet we could fill out on our family and turned in to either Presidency member. We filled out the paper and I took it up to the RS President with my husband in tow. When I handed it to her she looked at me and said it wasn't worth the effort because members move in and out of the ward all the time so why bother to bet to know them. When I attempted to be polite and introduce ourselves to her she told me she had better things to do with her day than deal with new ward members. With that she turned and walked away. The Elders Quorum President was no where to be found. A helpful ward member said the man had left during the closing hymn and never stuck around to meet new ward member.
I was not surprised by the attitudes, but my husband was. He could not understand how member of the church could be so callous. We went for a couple more weeks and he said he'd rather not go if we were going to be ignored and treated as non-entities. He was truly hurt and had his faith a little rattled. I just dealt with it and moved on.
A short time later we found out we were expecting our second child. Delighted to know another child was on the way, we began to make what preparations we could. In the midst of this I suddenly had a call from my visiting teachers. They became the only contact we had with the ward. They made sure I knew about every homemaking night and even picked me and my daughter up a couple of times to attend because my husband was working two jobs *so I could stay at home) and we only had one car. I was grateful for their efforts. When my child was born they visited me at the hospital and let me know that dinners had been arranged for the next week. People I didn't even know showed up with some amazing food. My visiting teachers came over to help clean my apartment for a couple of weeks. And 8 weeks later as we packed up and moved out, they came and helped us pack up. It was the only good experience we had within the ward. Whenever I would attempt to attend church I continues to be treated poorly because I lived in an apartment.
We lived with my in-laws for a few months while waiting to purchase a home. Now, if your in-laws like you, particularly your mother-in-law, I've heard this can be a great bonding experience. It wasn't so for me. I turned into the maid. I fixed nearly all meals for a family of not just 3 *since the baby was still to little for regular food) but a family of 10. Often there were complaints about my cooking because I made food differently than my mother-in-law. In lieu of rent we bought groceries for the household. I think it would've been cheaper to pay rent. We had no privacy. Yes we had two rooms in the basement allotted to us, but that didn't mean privacy. More than once a family member would randomly stroll into our room in the wee hours of morning and find us in a compromising position. It was embarrassing and led to his mom telling me that I need to be more respectful of the fact there are teenagers in the house. Then came the his older sister who had two kids of her own. She would randomly drop by, sometimes multiple times in a day, with her kids and tell her son to go to Aunt Shan's room to watch a movie. Now this is all fine and dandy if I'm asked, but that didn't seem to be a consideration she was willing to make. More than once I found him in my kids room waking them up from naps. One time she sent him in there while we were gone and I found my freshly laundered and stacked clothing scattered across the floor with peanut butter and jam rubbed all over the place...including on my TV. I was livid. My husband told me he would talk to his mom and sister and I was not to say a word. Well he didn't and the issues continued. Then the baby got sick. She spent an entire night up crying in pain. The next day one of his younger sisters informed me that I needed to learn how to keep my brat quiet at night. Exhausted and having not slept in over 36 hours and with my mother-in-law backing up her daughter I snapped. I call her a spoiled little shit and slapped her across the face. I think they were shocked. I then turned to my mother-in-law and told her under no uncertain terms was my stuff to be touched by ANYONE other than me or my husband. I walked downstairs, holding a sobbing baby, packed up a bunch of clothes for me and my daughters, loaded it all up and drove to my mom's house. I called my husband at work (he worked for his dad) and told him to call his second job and tell them he was without a car for a few days. I then told him I would be at my mom's until I could find someplace else to live. I was done.
Needless to say, my husband heard a different side of the story from his mom and sister. It was the first time I fully stood my ground against his family and it would not be the last. His oldest sister came to my mom's house to ask what had happened and I told her. I also told her that her treating my space as a babysitter for her son was disrespectful. She was upset but asked why I hadn't said something sooner. I told her I didn't on the counsel of my husband. She apologized and asked what she could do to help me out. She went and packed up our rooms for me so I didn't have to go back. She babysat while I hunted for a place to live. And then she babysat the day we moved.
This outburst just added to their feeling that I was entirely unsuitable for their precious son. Now, in their defense, they had a different dream for him and me ending up pregnant with his child not long after graduation and us not rushing to the alter certainly didn't win me any favors. Now that I have adult children I can see it from their perspective, which is why I've fought hard to just love and support my children. Last year I even broke my word that I would not pay for a wedding unless my daughters had a viable college degree by paying for my oldest to get married while she was still in college and had another 3 semesters to go. And for the record, I adore my son-in-law. He is the most amazing young man and I couldn't pick anyone better than him for my daughter.
A week or two after these events my mother-in-law stopped by to see her grandchildren. She apologized but I was hesitant to accept it. To keep the piece I did so and we agreed to try harder to work together for the sake of our respective relationships with her son. Years later I found out this was all play-acting on her part and the part of most of his family. But that's another story.
23 months into the marriage we finally closed on a house and became home owners. I was very depressed and unhappy. I didn't feel like I had anyone to talk to because I when I did say something my family told me to suck it up because I chose to marry him. What I was truly looking for was someone to tell me to leave him. I really felt I needed permission.
The new ward was much nicer and once again we were in a ward with one of his grandma's. Only this is the grandma who would randomly stop by and let me know when the cleanliness of my house didn't meet her standards. And it was never going to meet her standards I soon came to find out. I was told to tread lightly with this particular grandma because she has a "black list" and if you make her mad you are on her list. One day, not sure what exactly I said or did, she stated she was very angry with me. I looked at her and told her that it was her job to deal with her emotions and not blame me for them. I held my ground and she actually respected me for it. I even told her she could put me on her black list and I really didn't care. I had enough family to love me that her ignoring me would only mean I never brought my kids to see her. But I guess divorcing her grandson was a good enough reason to black list me...and my kids have barely seen her in the years since.
During these months I learned a lot about myself and that I wasn't a very good wife. I was too opinionated and wanted to speak my mind without my husband's permission. However, I was told repeatedly by the in-laws that I needed to defer to him in all matters. This was a hard lesson and seldom did it ever work out favorably. The next 8+ years will show how this slowly spiraled out of control and led to the end of my marriage and my the beginning to the journey to fine out who Shandra really is.
I was not surprised by the attitudes, but my husband was. He could not understand how member of the church could be so callous. We went for a couple more weeks and he said he'd rather not go if we were going to be ignored and treated as non-entities. He was truly hurt and had his faith a little rattled. I just dealt with it and moved on.
A short time later we found out we were expecting our second child. Delighted to know another child was on the way, we began to make what preparations we could. In the midst of this I suddenly had a call from my visiting teachers. They became the only contact we had with the ward. They made sure I knew about every homemaking night and even picked me and my daughter up a couple of times to attend because my husband was working two jobs *so I could stay at home) and we only had one car. I was grateful for their efforts. When my child was born they visited me at the hospital and let me know that dinners had been arranged for the next week. People I didn't even know showed up with some amazing food. My visiting teachers came over to help clean my apartment for a couple of weeks. And 8 weeks later as we packed up and moved out, they came and helped us pack up. It was the only good experience we had within the ward. Whenever I would attempt to attend church I continues to be treated poorly because I lived in an apartment.
We lived with my in-laws for a few months while waiting to purchase a home. Now, if your in-laws like you, particularly your mother-in-law, I've heard this can be a great bonding experience. It wasn't so for me. I turned into the maid. I fixed nearly all meals for a family of not just 3 *since the baby was still to little for regular food) but a family of 10. Often there were complaints about my cooking because I made food differently than my mother-in-law. In lieu of rent we bought groceries for the household. I think it would've been cheaper to pay rent. We had no privacy. Yes we had two rooms in the basement allotted to us, but that didn't mean privacy. More than once a family member would randomly stroll into our room in the wee hours of morning and find us in a compromising position. It was embarrassing and led to his mom telling me that I need to be more respectful of the fact there are teenagers in the house. Then came the his older sister who had two kids of her own. She would randomly drop by, sometimes multiple times in a day, with her kids and tell her son to go to Aunt Shan's room to watch a movie. Now this is all fine and dandy if I'm asked, but that didn't seem to be a consideration she was willing to make. More than once I found him in my kids room waking them up from naps. One time she sent him in there while we were gone and I found my freshly laundered and stacked clothing scattered across the floor with peanut butter and jam rubbed all over the place...including on my TV. I was livid. My husband told me he would talk to his mom and sister and I was not to say a word. Well he didn't and the issues continued. Then the baby got sick. She spent an entire night up crying in pain. The next day one of his younger sisters informed me that I needed to learn how to keep my brat quiet at night. Exhausted and having not slept in over 36 hours and with my mother-in-law backing up her daughter I snapped. I call her a spoiled little shit and slapped her across the face. I think they were shocked. I then turned to my mother-in-law and told her under no uncertain terms was my stuff to be touched by ANYONE other than me or my husband. I walked downstairs, holding a sobbing baby, packed up a bunch of clothes for me and my daughters, loaded it all up and drove to my mom's house. I called my husband at work (he worked for his dad) and told him to call his second job and tell them he was without a car for a few days. I then told him I would be at my mom's until I could find someplace else to live. I was done.
Needless to say, my husband heard a different side of the story from his mom and sister. It was the first time I fully stood my ground against his family and it would not be the last. His oldest sister came to my mom's house to ask what had happened and I told her. I also told her that her treating my space as a babysitter for her son was disrespectful. She was upset but asked why I hadn't said something sooner. I told her I didn't on the counsel of my husband. She apologized and asked what she could do to help me out. She went and packed up our rooms for me so I didn't have to go back. She babysat while I hunted for a place to live. And then she babysat the day we moved.
This outburst just added to their feeling that I was entirely unsuitable for their precious son. Now, in their defense, they had a different dream for him and me ending up pregnant with his child not long after graduation and us not rushing to the alter certainly didn't win me any favors. Now that I have adult children I can see it from their perspective, which is why I've fought hard to just love and support my children. Last year I even broke my word that I would not pay for a wedding unless my daughters had a viable college degree by paying for my oldest to get married while she was still in college and had another 3 semesters to go. And for the record, I adore my son-in-law. He is the most amazing young man and I couldn't pick anyone better than him for my daughter.
A week or two after these events my mother-in-law stopped by to see her grandchildren. She apologized but I was hesitant to accept it. To keep the piece I did so and we agreed to try harder to work together for the sake of our respective relationships with her son. Years later I found out this was all play-acting on her part and the part of most of his family. But that's another story.
23 months into the marriage we finally closed on a house and became home owners. I was very depressed and unhappy. I didn't feel like I had anyone to talk to because I when I did say something my family told me to suck it up because I chose to marry him. What I was truly looking for was someone to tell me to leave him. I really felt I needed permission.
The new ward was much nicer and once again we were in a ward with one of his grandma's. Only this is the grandma who would randomly stop by and let me know when the cleanliness of my house didn't meet her standards. And it was never going to meet her standards I soon came to find out. I was told to tread lightly with this particular grandma because she has a "black list" and if you make her mad you are on her list. One day, not sure what exactly I said or did, she stated she was very angry with me. I looked at her and told her that it was her job to deal with her emotions and not blame me for them. I held my ground and she actually respected me for it. I even told her she could put me on her black list and I really didn't care. I had enough family to love me that her ignoring me would only mean I never brought my kids to see her. But I guess divorcing her grandson was a good enough reason to black list me...and my kids have barely seen her in the years since.
During these months I learned a lot about myself and that I wasn't a very good wife. I was too opinionated and wanted to speak my mind without my husband's permission. However, I was told repeatedly by the in-laws that I needed to defer to him in all matters. This was a hard lesson and seldom did it ever work out favorably. The next 8+ years will show how this slowly spiraled out of control and led to the end of my marriage and my the beginning to the journey to fine out who Shandra really is.
Sunday, September 6, 2015
Realizing the Divine Woman Within
I'm taking a sidestep from where I've been headed with this blog. The reason...Women's Retreat this weekend. This added to a comparison of situations from years ago and this weekend.
Many years ago I was invited to attend a series of classes taught through the LDS Church for women leaders. When I attempted to go to them my husband (now ex-husband) cited how difficult it would be for him to have to "babysit" all those evenings I would be gone. So I didn't go. I felt as if I'd missed out on an opportunity. When the opportunity came up again I didn't even bring it up. Even RS Activities would be a problem if a nursery wasn't provided. I quit trying. The reason I tell you this is so you understand the uniqueness of the events of this weekend.
I had known for nearly a month about the Women's Retreat. I felt the desire to go but was hesitant. Money is tight, but I knew that something could be worked out. I couldn't be there as early as everyone else and didn't want to leave my husband without a vehicle. Basically I was looking for a reason NOT to go. Then Friday I expressed via Facebook my desire to join these new friends on this quest. And suddenly I had a ride and she could be at my house in just a short time. I looked at my husband expecting to be told all the reasons it wasn't right for me to go. Instead he said, "What can I do to help you pack?" He and my two youngest daughters helped me pack in under 10 minutes. My ride showed up...a delightful young mother not much older than my oldest and she had even attended the same college my oldest now attends.
Hope is an amazing woman and I learned much from her as we shared our stories of seeking. We are both on different paths that happen to have converged. Whether this convergence remains or we separate down the line matters not to me. For I have found a friend in Christ.
This weekend was about Discovering the Divine Feminine. While I'm not as much of a die-hard feminist as say, my husband, I am finding that I am more of a feminist than I realized. But divine...that I was uncertain about. So this weekend was one of learning for me.
While much is still in a processing mode for me, I can tell you that I have learned that I truly am Divine. That I do have Worth. That my father and mother in heaven created me out of love. And that I need not be afraid to thank the Goddess who created me. She is Worth the recognition and love. She has brought much joy to my life and for her I am eternally grateful.
I learned to not be afraid to proclaim my divinity. I'm not stating I'm any better than anyone else...I'm not to be put higher than another, but I am a worthwhile member of the circle that reaches for unity and equality in everything. I've learned that the Living Water is within me and that I can draw on this as often as needed.
The women I met are all on a spiritual journey. Some are still seeking, like I am. Others are secure in where they are now, but understand the importance of continuing the journey.
So...with all of this information this weekend I learned something very vital. I have been raised (not by my parents but by my religious family) to believe I only have worth if I am following the teachings of the LDS Church and meeting their set of standards. Why on earth should I have less worth because I falter and make mistakes? Why should I be treated as the adulterous woman was by the Pharisees? That should never happen. It shouldn't happen to any woman...to any person. Why have I never been lifted up by my faith? It's easy to blame the patriarchy...the men...but it is the women who have done this. This isn't to say there aren't certain people who have treated me well regardless of the situations I've lived through, because there certainly are those people. But why should a woman be viewed as less than just based on her gender? It has never felt right.
I'll be the first to admit I didn't jump on board with the Ordain Women movement. I could see the allure, but it wasn't for me. Over the last couple of years I've begun to see the allure. I can't see convincing an organization as large as the LDS Church to change its belief patterns...at least not any quicker than the Blacks and the Priesthood issue. It may change in my lifetime, but I just don't see it happening. The church is too steeped in its patriarchal views. This saddens my heart. Because with equality comes power...the circle needs to be created.
I sat in a circle this morning with the most beautiful and talented women I've had the opportunity to meet. We joined in a prayer to the divine female deity. My prayer was "Divine Womb, form us, shape us, birth us into being." These words are imprinted on my soul. I will carry these words with me wherever I may go.
May the peace of the Divine Mother dwell within you all.
Many years ago I was invited to attend a series of classes taught through the LDS Church for women leaders. When I attempted to go to them my husband (now ex-husband) cited how difficult it would be for him to have to "babysit" all those evenings I would be gone. So I didn't go. I felt as if I'd missed out on an opportunity. When the opportunity came up again I didn't even bring it up. Even RS Activities would be a problem if a nursery wasn't provided. I quit trying. The reason I tell you this is so you understand the uniqueness of the events of this weekend.
I had known for nearly a month about the Women's Retreat. I felt the desire to go but was hesitant. Money is tight, but I knew that something could be worked out. I couldn't be there as early as everyone else and didn't want to leave my husband without a vehicle. Basically I was looking for a reason NOT to go. Then Friday I expressed via Facebook my desire to join these new friends on this quest. And suddenly I had a ride and she could be at my house in just a short time. I looked at my husband expecting to be told all the reasons it wasn't right for me to go. Instead he said, "What can I do to help you pack?" He and my two youngest daughters helped me pack in under 10 minutes. My ride showed up...a delightful young mother not much older than my oldest and she had even attended the same college my oldest now attends.
Hope is an amazing woman and I learned much from her as we shared our stories of seeking. We are both on different paths that happen to have converged. Whether this convergence remains or we separate down the line matters not to me. For I have found a friend in Christ.
This weekend was about Discovering the Divine Feminine. While I'm not as much of a die-hard feminist as say, my husband, I am finding that I am more of a feminist than I realized. But divine...that I was uncertain about. So this weekend was one of learning for me.
While much is still in a processing mode for me, I can tell you that I have learned that I truly am Divine. That I do have Worth. That my father and mother in heaven created me out of love. And that I need not be afraid to thank the Goddess who created me. She is Worth the recognition and love. She has brought much joy to my life and for her I am eternally grateful.
I learned to not be afraid to proclaim my divinity. I'm not stating I'm any better than anyone else...I'm not to be put higher than another, but I am a worthwhile member of the circle that reaches for unity and equality in everything. I've learned that the Living Water is within me and that I can draw on this as often as needed.
The women I met are all on a spiritual journey. Some are still seeking, like I am. Others are secure in where they are now, but understand the importance of continuing the journey.
So...with all of this information this weekend I learned something very vital. I have been raised (not by my parents but by my religious family) to believe I only have worth if I am following the teachings of the LDS Church and meeting their set of standards. Why on earth should I have less worth because I falter and make mistakes? Why should I be treated as the adulterous woman was by the Pharisees? That should never happen. It shouldn't happen to any woman...to any person. Why have I never been lifted up by my faith? It's easy to blame the patriarchy...the men...but it is the women who have done this. This isn't to say there aren't certain people who have treated me well regardless of the situations I've lived through, because there certainly are those people. But why should a woman be viewed as less than just based on her gender? It has never felt right.
I'll be the first to admit I didn't jump on board with the Ordain Women movement. I could see the allure, but it wasn't for me. Over the last couple of years I've begun to see the allure. I can't see convincing an organization as large as the LDS Church to change its belief patterns...at least not any quicker than the Blacks and the Priesthood issue. It may change in my lifetime, but I just don't see it happening. The church is too steeped in its patriarchal views. This saddens my heart. Because with equality comes power...the circle needs to be created.
I sat in a circle this morning with the most beautiful and talented women I've had the opportunity to meet. We joined in a prayer to the divine female deity. My prayer was "Divine Womb, form us, shape us, birth us into being." These words are imprinted on my soul. I will carry these words with me wherever I may go.
May the peace of the Divine Mother dwell within you all.
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Becoming a wife in Zion
It seems odd to write this post today as it would have been my 22nd anniversary. Years where I'm feeling particularly snarky I will text my ex and tell him "Happy Anniversary!" This has not happened since I met my current husband. Nor do I feel the loss I once felt every time this date rolled around.
As stated, 22 years ago I entered the life of a Mormon housewife. This was not completely willing on my part. Being we already had an infant, I felt very pushed by 'his' family and 'him' to get married ASAP. Just minutes before I was to be married my mom offered me the car keys and said I could leave and she wouldn't care that they were out the cost. I nearly took her up on it. Only my kids remind me of the blessings that came from the marriage. I hesitated to say yes during the ceremony. Somehow I knew my life was not going to be the fairy-tale I'd always dreamed to would be.
Married at 19 wasn't exactly what I had wanted. Nor already being a mom. 'He' is the reason I did not give up my oldest. I didn't want 'him' to raise her. My oldest sister and her husband had approached me to adopt my baby and I felt that it was what needed to be done. 'He' asserted his priesthood authority and stated that as the priesthood holder he knew we HAD to get married and raise the baby as a family. So getting married was my second choice. Yes, my daughter is well aware of all this. We've spoken about it many times. She knows that I love her and just wish I could have done better by her, but I will never regret her in my life.
A couple weeks after marriage we moved into our first apartment. Shortly thereafter we had the bishopric and relief society presidency visit us. The look of shock on their faces when they found out we had just gotten married made me feel ashamed. We vowed to attend church on a regular basis. My grandma-in-law was in our ward. A sweet, little Danish woman who taught me the meaning of unconditional love. She didn't always understand why people acted the way they did, but she loved nonetheless.
Shortly after we began attending our ward (newlyweds or nearly deads because of the ages of most ward members) I was called to teach in Primary. Last time I had been in Primary I was a Merry Miss B (11yo). I had absolutely no clue what I was doing and I had one child in my class. I was quickly clumped together with all the other newlywed women and young moms. I was utterly lost yet treated as if I should have it altogether.
Then came homemaking nights. Talk about a night designed to make a young wife and mother feel like a failure. I had a pretty organized home, but was quickly becoming depressed. I couldn't measure up to these people. There was no way I could do everything they seemed to expect me to do. I just was not hardwired to pander to a man. When I asked an older woman what she would do if her husband just dumped his stuff throughout the house after coming home from work I was met with a bewildered look. She said a good wife picks up the mess and keeps the home tidy. So I asked a few more women and was told the same thing. Then I asked my married sisters. They said to pick it up but put it in a box and at the end of the week tell him to take care of it or you'd through his crap out. That didn't go over well at all and led to a late night physical confrontation which left me bruised and scared. I knew I needed to do what he said or I'd be hurt. Funny thing is, there was only one physical altercation after this in which I stood up to him and they never happened again. I guess me threatening him with my older brothers was a good thing.
My dinners always seemed to have something wrong with them. I'd try to include him in menu planning to which he'd tell me what ever I fixed he'd be happy with. Yet he never really was. I was constantly hearing about how I could make a dish taste good next time I fixed it. Truly disheartening.
Then I had a meeting with the bishop...PPI (aka personal priesthood interview)...something I'd never truly participated in before. When I spoke of some of my frustrations with marriage I was told it was my 'wifely duty' to attend to my husband in every area. It was not his job to help with housework or child-rearing unless I was in the hospital having just given birth to a new child. I was devastated to learn that I had to completely give up me to cater to him.
It was during this time that I was also dealing with a mother-in-law who hated me. She felt I had 'ruined' her precious son by getting pregnant and preventing him from serving a mission. Like it doesn't take two to tango. But she also expected me to take care of her son in the way she took care of her husband. By catering and giving in to him.
Then the flu hit our household. Thankfully the baby really didn't get sick. The husband did and he was difficult to deal with during it. Just as he got better I became sick. He was upset that I wasn't fixing dinner for him or getting up to prepare his breakfast in the morning. I felt like death. One morning I did get up early enough to take him to work and drove myself and our daughter to my parents house. I was supposed to be working on laundry. My mom took one look at me and told me I needed to be seen by a doctor. She worked on my laundry and took care of my daughter while I went to the doctor. I had a severe sinus infection and strep throat. When I returned to my mom's she called my husband and let him know he'd need to find a way to their house to take me and the baby home. She also told him how sick I was. That night, once we got home, I was told how humiliating it was to have my mom call him and tell him how to take care of me. He said he had plans that night and I'd have to figure it out myself. So I did...all to keep the peace...and in being the good Mormon housewife I was being told by the church to be. I was down for nearly a week with something that I could've been over with much quicker if I'd been "allowed" to rest like was needed.
I realize that I must sound bitter. I'm really not. It's just the experience. It taught me a lot, in retrospect, for the time in which I became a single mom. When no one was there to really help out yet things had to be done.
This all took place in just the first 6 months of marriage. I knew I had entered the 7th level of hell...and was too scared to run the other direction for fear of punishment from my bishop. I definitely had, in that short amount of time, developed a fear of the patriarchy and this was to set me on a very dangerous course for the next 10 years.
As stated, 22 years ago I entered the life of a Mormon housewife. This was not completely willing on my part. Being we already had an infant, I felt very pushed by 'his' family and 'him' to get married ASAP. Just minutes before I was to be married my mom offered me the car keys and said I could leave and she wouldn't care that they were out the cost. I nearly took her up on it. Only my kids remind me of the blessings that came from the marriage. I hesitated to say yes during the ceremony. Somehow I knew my life was not going to be the fairy-tale I'd always dreamed to would be.
Married at 19 wasn't exactly what I had wanted. Nor already being a mom. 'He' is the reason I did not give up my oldest. I didn't want 'him' to raise her. My oldest sister and her husband had approached me to adopt my baby and I felt that it was what needed to be done. 'He' asserted his priesthood authority and stated that as the priesthood holder he knew we HAD to get married and raise the baby as a family. So getting married was my second choice. Yes, my daughter is well aware of all this. We've spoken about it many times. She knows that I love her and just wish I could have done better by her, but I will never regret her in my life.
A couple weeks after marriage we moved into our first apartment. Shortly thereafter we had the bishopric and relief society presidency visit us. The look of shock on their faces when they found out we had just gotten married made me feel ashamed. We vowed to attend church on a regular basis. My grandma-in-law was in our ward. A sweet, little Danish woman who taught me the meaning of unconditional love. She didn't always understand why people acted the way they did, but she loved nonetheless.
Shortly after we began attending our ward (newlyweds or nearly deads because of the ages of most ward members) I was called to teach in Primary. Last time I had been in Primary I was a Merry Miss B (11yo). I had absolutely no clue what I was doing and I had one child in my class. I was quickly clumped together with all the other newlywed women and young moms. I was utterly lost yet treated as if I should have it altogether.
Then came homemaking nights. Talk about a night designed to make a young wife and mother feel like a failure. I had a pretty organized home, but was quickly becoming depressed. I couldn't measure up to these people. There was no way I could do everything they seemed to expect me to do. I just was not hardwired to pander to a man. When I asked an older woman what she would do if her husband just dumped his stuff throughout the house after coming home from work I was met with a bewildered look. She said a good wife picks up the mess and keeps the home tidy. So I asked a few more women and was told the same thing. Then I asked my married sisters. They said to pick it up but put it in a box and at the end of the week tell him to take care of it or you'd through his crap out. That didn't go over well at all and led to a late night physical confrontation which left me bruised and scared. I knew I needed to do what he said or I'd be hurt. Funny thing is, there was only one physical altercation after this in which I stood up to him and they never happened again. I guess me threatening him with my older brothers was a good thing.
My dinners always seemed to have something wrong with them. I'd try to include him in menu planning to which he'd tell me what ever I fixed he'd be happy with. Yet he never really was. I was constantly hearing about how I could make a dish taste good next time I fixed it. Truly disheartening.
Then I had a meeting with the bishop...PPI (aka personal priesthood interview)...something I'd never truly participated in before. When I spoke of some of my frustrations with marriage I was told it was my 'wifely duty' to attend to my husband in every area. It was not his job to help with housework or child-rearing unless I was in the hospital having just given birth to a new child. I was devastated to learn that I had to completely give up me to cater to him.
It was during this time that I was also dealing with a mother-in-law who hated me. She felt I had 'ruined' her precious son by getting pregnant and preventing him from serving a mission. Like it doesn't take two to tango. But she also expected me to take care of her son in the way she took care of her husband. By catering and giving in to him.
Then the flu hit our household. Thankfully the baby really didn't get sick. The husband did and he was difficult to deal with during it. Just as he got better I became sick. He was upset that I wasn't fixing dinner for him or getting up to prepare his breakfast in the morning. I felt like death. One morning I did get up early enough to take him to work and drove myself and our daughter to my parents house. I was supposed to be working on laundry. My mom took one look at me and told me I needed to be seen by a doctor. She worked on my laundry and took care of my daughter while I went to the doctor. I had a severe sinus infection and strep throat. When I returned to my mom's she called my husband and let him know he'd need to find a way to their house to take me and the baby home. She also told him how sick I was. That night, once we got home, I was told how humiliating it was to have my mom call him and tell him how to take care of me. He said he had plans that night and I'd have to figure it out myself. So I did...all to keep the peace...and in being the good Mormon housewife I was being told by the church to be. I was down for nearly a week with something that I could've been over with much quicker if I'd been "allowed" to rest like was needed.
I realize that I must sound bitter. I'm really not. It's just the experience. It taught me a lot, in retrospect, for the time in which I became a single mom. When no one was there to really help out yet things had to be done.
This all took place in just the first 6 months of marriage. I knew I had entered the 7th level of hell...and was too scared to run the other direction for fear of punishment from my bishop. I definitely had, in that short amount of time, developed a fear of the patriarchy and this was to set me on a very dangerous course for the next 10 years.
Monday, August 31, 2015
Back to the Beginning
Sometimes you have to go back to the beginning to understand why you are where you are. Here is my beginning.
I'm the youngest of a not so typical large Mormon family...number 8 although I'm number 7 to live more than a day. I was the "chaperone" for my older siblings dates...but they always made it fun. I have very little memory of my oldest brother living at home. Most of my childhood memories are of him coming home to visit while on leave from the Navy. The next oldest brother and my oldest living sister I have a few more memories but not by much. By the time I was out of kindergarten the three oldest had all married. So most of my childhood was full of memories of four kids in the house...probably why I always wanted four kids.
I have memories of my dad being in the bishopric and misbehaving during sacrament meeting so mom would send me up to the stand to sit with him. I remember the hard wooden benches and napping on the pile of coats during the winter. And as I hit school age I remember Primary still taking place during the week and church being a little bit of back and forth on Sunday. I even remember when suddenly we had Primary on Sunday and no more church during the week because it meant I no longer had to wear a dress to school.
The year I turned 8 my dad was my primary teacher. It was cool to have him as a teacher as he made class fun, but I don't really remember what he taught, just that it was fun. I remember being baptized on my grandparents' anniversary and feeling upset that I had to be confirmed the same day instead of at church the next day because of my dad's work schedule. Within the next 18 months, my parents became inactive.
I had some basic understanding of the gospel but asked a lot of questions. My Primary teachers weren't certain how to answer them so I learned the standard answer of "pray and read your scriptures". To a 10 year old that's basically a non-answer. Questioning was just part of my nature.
With my parents no longer regularly attending church neither did I. My friends would invite me and I'd go. But it was strange to not have at least one parent there. Sometimes I could talk my dad into going if his work schedule didn't interfere. Just to be straight, in no way do I blame my parents for the path I'm on. In fact, their inactivity led me to ask and search on my own. I was encouraged to visit other churches by my mother. My parents both stated that the best way to understand another religion is to attend services.
Through my early teens, I continued to question and asked friends how they KNEW the validity of the church. They said they did because their parents taught them. It was true. In some ways, I felt short-changed. My parents weren't really teaching me that. Then again, my siblings had been raised in an active family and none of them had much to do with the church.
When I reached ninth grade I took seminary. We were learning about the New Testament. I had a great teacher and he fielded many questions from me...including me asking how I could know the church is really the ONE TRUE CHURCH. Of course, the answer of pray and read your scriptures was the main answer. He also told me that everyone has to find their own answer and to never lean on someone else for the truth. I was envious of many of my friends who seemed to have unwavering faith. I had too many questions. The biggest one of which was "Does Jesus really exist and does he even give a damn about me?" It took over 2 years to get the answer to this.
I remember talking with my seminary teacher during 10th grade about the RLDS (Community of Christ) Church. He stated that it started when Emma apostatized from the LDS Church and to not give them a second thought...but I was intrigued. Since we were studying Church History and Doctrine and Covenants. I loved the historical aspect but I had so many questions which led to a lot of the teacher asking me to talk to him after school.
By 11th grade, I had given up. My prayers were unanswered and I doubted the existence of Jesus. I felt that my religious friends were being duped. Yet I continued to pray. In December of that year, I had an experience that set me on my journey...I was a member of my school's madrigal choir. And we had the opportunity to sing at the LDS church Administration Building where the First Presidency and apostles have their offices. It is still one of my favorite memories. After our performance, we had the chance to meet the members of the First Presidency. As an alto" and a short one at that, I was at the tail end of the group. When my turn came I shook hands with Thomas S Monson and Ezra Taft Benson. I felt both were men who had dedicated their lives to serving God. Then I found myself standing in front of this sweet little man...Gordon B Hinckley. As I stretched my hand out to shake his, he quickly pulled me into an embrace and told me Jesus loves me. How could he possibly know about my question? My heart was full and I knew God had answered my question.
I went back to seminary for the remainder of the school year and attended church more often, but I still had questions. My boyfriend fielded many questions and even had me talk with his dad. His dad gave me the best advice that I follow to this day. It isn't wrong to question, but it is the intent with which you question. Don't question to prove something wrong but to prove something right. I spent a great many years taking my questions to this man (as he became my father-in-law).
I was a youth speaker in Sacrament meeting...but struggled to write a talk and say anything with real meaning or spirit. I just couldn't fully accept the validity of the church. But I kept trying to find the truths that did exist...just as I look for the truths that exist now.
I'll stop here for now...as within 3 years of the experience at Christmas time I was a mother and a wife and that's a story for another day.
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